I so happy, I not crying (Cody’s Birth Story, Part II)

A month or so ago, Josh picked up Jacob at daycare, and Jacob was very upset and didn’t want to leave. This is unusual, because usually Jacob is saying, “My Daddy! My Daddy!” and can’t wait for pickup, but on this particular day he was having too good of a time. The next day, he was back to normal, and when Josh came to pick him up, he said, “I so happy, I not crying.”

This phrase could have been the tagline of my labor with Cody. Not only did I say it over and over again, I felt so happy through the 16 hours of labor. Tired and in pain, but happy. I felt like an athlete well trained for a marathon, only most of my training was psychological. All the hard work, the blogging, the reliving and letting go of Jacob’s birth had served its purpose; because I felt so great, even through the contractions (does this mean I need to retract my Gisele rant?).

I walked into labor & delivery with my silver birth ball and a smile on my face. I had my birth plan. I rejected meds, even when I thought that the pain from the contractions might tear my body apart. I felt present and completely in my body, and just kept thinking that this is what my body is supposed to do. I felt so damn good.

Onto the nitty gritty.

We got set up in our room and Nurse Mary got out a ph strip to confirm the presence of amniotic fluid, and it turned color immediately. She checked my cervix and I was at 2 cm, 80% effaced.

At 7 am, we got the next nurse, Nurse Diane, and I was about 3 cm dilated.

At 9 am, I was about 4.5 cm dilated, and things started to slow down. Keiki’s heart rate was dropping with each contraction (decels), so they set me up on IV fluids and oxygen to even out his heart rate. This is the part that I hated with Jacob’s birth, because the length of the oxygen tube from the wall to the mask was so short that I was pretty much tethered to the bed. This time, I was okay. I’d still rip it off when I had a contraction, but I tried to sit up in the bed, or sit on the birth ball right next to the bed.

Between 9 and 2, I was checked hourly, and there was little progress. Dr B let me continue because my labor was steady and strong, and Keiki was doing okay, but at 2, we decided that if there was no change by 4 pm, we’d move forward with a C-Section.

By 3 pm, fatigue was setting in, and I wondered how much longer I could go on without rest or pain relief. I knew that the contractions would only get stronger and more frequent, and as it was they were shredding through me, making me feel like my body was cracking open with each one. I wanted to know my fate, so I asked Nurse Diane to check me early. When she noted that there had been no change, I knew that a C-Section was imminent, which Dr. B confirmed via phone.

Once I knew we were going forward with the C-Section, I started crying, a really big, ugly cry. As Josh and Nurse Diane tried to comfort me, I tried to explain that I was okay, but the only thing that came out was blubbering sobs. I was disappointed to say the least, but I knew that I had done everything I could, and that for me, this was the right choice. The contractions were slowing down; my body was slowing down; it was time to let go of the VBAC option. I was okay with my decision, but had a lot of emotion to release, and sometimes crying is the only way to do that. I wanted to say “I’m not sad, I’m just crying.”

The anesthesiologist came in, and it was the same doctor from Jacob’s birth. I re-introduced myself and shared a little bit about my previous experience on the operating table: the uncontrollable shivering, the nausea. He explained that the shivering was pretty standard, but that he’d try to be mindful of it and any nausea and minimize both side affects. He made me feel heard, and that helped with my fears about returning to the operating room.

It was 4:53 pm, I had been in labor for 16 hours, and we were on the home stretch.